


Crema Verse Prompt Fill #42

by twobirdsonesong



Series: Crema Verse [45]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brothers, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Husbands, M/M, Prompt Fill, Romance, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 19:22:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twobirdsonesong/pseuds/twobirdsonesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>heavenorspace asked you: [paraphrasing] Blaine is sick, so Kurt takes Cooper as his date to an event</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crema Verse Prompt Fill #42

“Kurt,  _go_.”

Kurt rolls his eyes and takes the half empty cup of chamomile tea out of Blaine’s hands and sets it down on the table.  “I’m not leaving you while you’re this sick just so I can go to a stupid party.”

“It’s not a stupid party,” Blaine protests.  His voice is rough and scratchy, finally louder than the whisper it’d been reduced to the day before.  “It’s  _Vogue_.”

“Yeah, it’s yet another Vogue party.”  Kurt sits down on the couch, next to Blaine who is curled on his side, huddled under a mound of blankets.  He’s not even mildly put out about the thought of not putting on a tux and rubbing elbows with fashion’s top names.  “We’ve been to them before and we’ll go to them again.  I can miss this one.”

“I’m fine.  Go.  Have fun.”  Blaine’s insistence of his health is undercut by a round of wet, hacking coughing and Kurt grimaces.  Blaine’s cheeks are still flushed red and his skin is glowing with a faint sheen of sweat.

“You’re  _not_  fine.  You have a fever, you’re puking all over the place, and you can barely stand up.  What if I leave you here alone and you do something stupid and stubborn like try to make yourself something to eat or even walk to the bathroom and you fall and crack your head open or break your beautiful hands.  You need your hands, darling.   _I_  need your hands.”  Kurt finds one of his husband’s too-warm hands under the mass of blankets and squeezes.

“I don’t want you to miss the party.”  Blaine’s pouting a little and Kurt kind of wants to kiss it away.  “You have a new tux for it and everything.  You look beautiful in it, by the way.”

“Yes, I know.  You told me.  And I’m not missing the party because of you.  I’m missing the party because I want to.  Because I’d rather stay here with you and feed you soup and fetch you cool towels for your forehead and rub Vick’s vapor rub on your chest.”  Kurt scratches his fingers through Blaine’s hair, pushing the sweat-damp curls back off his forehead.

Blaine snorts as best he can with his completely stuffed up nose.  “You just want to have your way with me when I’m weak and helpless.”  Kurt hums in agreement and Blaine squeezes his hand again. “Seriously, Kurt.  I’m fine.  I’ve got The West Wing on Netflix and I’m probably just going to fall asleep in a few minutes anyway.”

“And what if I don’t want to go alone?  You know how much I hate going to these things alone.”

“So take Cooper.”

“What?”  Kurt’s pretty sure that given the way Blaine’s eyebrows twitch, the words left his mouth before they even registered as a thought.

“Cooper.  He’s in town.  You should take him.”

“As my…date?”

Blaine shrugs, his shoulders shifting under the blankets.  “You’re swapping an Anderson for an Anderson.  No one will know.”

“Right, because you look so much alike.”  Kurt thinks he’d really rather curl up under the blankets with Blaine for the rest of the night, marathoning TV shows, and sipping endless cups of tea.  That sounds like a far better night than chaperoning Cooper Anderson to a Vogue party.

“He’ll love it.  It’ll give him something to do tonight.  And besides, he misses you.”

“What?”  Kurt spent an hour the other day texting Cooper about why he wasn’t allowed to stay at his and Blaine’s house during Valentine’s Day.

“He thinks you’re avoiding him.”

“Because I canceled one coffee date?  He just wanted to terrorize Carrie’s husband again.  She still hasn’t forgiven me for the Soho Incident.”

“Kurt-”

“Will he behave?”  Kurt grins at Blaine’s cocked eyebrow.  The  _are you serious?_  was plain as anything on his husband’s face.  “Right.  He’s Cooper.  Fine.  Ok.  But if he pees in the decorative plants again…”

“I’ll swat him on the nose and tell him ‘Bad Coop, no biscuit.’”

Kurt leans down and presses a soft kiss to Blaine’s forehead.

*** 

The red carpet arrival at the Vogue party is as loud and boisterous as ever.  Kurt’s done his fair share of these things by now, but he never gets used to them.  It’s not the same without Blaine at his side though.  He misses Blaine’s steady calm, the way his hand would settle – warm and reassuring – in the small of his back.  Kurt finds himself looking to the right, expecting to see Blaine’s mess of curls and loving gaze, and startling when he’s not there. 

But Cooper is, surprisingly, a comforting presence at his shoulder.  The party isn’t for either one of them, this time, but they still get an undue amount of attention; Cooper more so because he’s an unexpected guest and, well, because he’s Cooper.  He pulls focus even more than Kurt does.  Tonight is just a gala for some designer’s new line: cocktails, music, food.  It’s a chance to dress up and mingle with celebrities.  Kurt just has to smile, sip a few drinks, and let Cooper do all the work.

“Steady on there, man,” Cooper says, touching his elbow.  “You look like you hate this and I know you don’t.”

“I just,” Kurt takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders.

“Wish I were Blaine, I get it.”  Cooper’s eyes are bright like Blaine’s – warm and knowing – but the blue is so different.  “So pretend I’m Blaine.  You’re going to have to subtract a few inches and I’m not stepping into Blaine’s other husbandly duties… I mean, unless you get me really drunk.”  Cooper winks at him and that does it.  Kurt laughs and feels a little of the tension leave his chest. 

The cameras flash in their faces and reporters call their names.  It’s obvious they’re all a little confused to see Kurt Hummel with Cooper, and not Blaine, Anderson.  Most of the media outlets and paparazzi are familiar with Cooper and he’s comfortable with them in a way that Kurt knows Blaine envies.

“Cooper!”  One man with a massive camera and a brightly colored scarf calls out.  “Cooper, what are you doing here man?” 

“I’m just here in my brother’s place.  Pinch-hitting, as it were.”  Cooper flashes that smile that helped him land People’s Sexiest Man Alive title twice already.

“Hey, Kurt!”  A different man calls out and Kurt puts on his best smile.  “Where’s Blaine?”

“My husband’s sick.  Must have gotten that flu that’s going around.  I tried to stay home with him, but he basically kicked me out of the house.  I found Cooper here on the doorstep.  He looked bored, so here we are.”

“I’m just a stray,” Cooper says, grinning even brighter and looping his arm through Kurt’s.  More cameras flash.  “They leave a bowl of food out for me sometimes.”

“But only after he agreed to a flea bath.”  Kurt feels himself relaxing even more and he thinks this night might not be so bad after all.

***

Inside the party, Kurt makes his usual rounds.  He is pretty good at this, after all.  He schmoozes up to his fellow designers, making small talk and laughing at the same terrible jokes he seems to hear at every one of these things.  If he’s learned anything in his years in this business, it’s the power of good connections and how to put on an interested face, even if he’s bored to death.  The free alcohol helps.  Cooper’s actually a delight – he sticks close to Kurt, hand at his elbow, distracts the more annoying of the guests with his own star power, and keeps fresh drinks in Kurt’s hand.

Kurt eventually finds his old boss, Carrie, with her friends and Cooper spends half an hour talking animatedly to Carrie’s husband, Mr. Preston.  Kurt excuses himself to take the opportunity to slip outside and call Blaine.

“Hey, you,” Blaine’s voice is wonderfully deep, if still scratchy.

“Hey, what are you doing awake?”

“You called  _me_ , love.”  Blaine yawns and Kurt’s chest feels warm.

“I miss you.”

“It’s only been a few hours.”  Kurt can hear the fond amusement in Blaine’s voice and he pictures Blaine still cuddled under all the blankets, cheeks pinked and his hair mussed.

“I know.”

“Miss you too." 

“I’ll be home soon.”

“Love you.  Go rescue Carrie’s husband from Cooper.”

“Love you too, darling.”

Kurt hangs up, sticks his phone in his pockets, and slips back into the party.  He’ll stay another hour and then make his way home to Blaine.  He finds Cooper hanging along the edges of the party, uncharacteristically alone, another two glasses of champagne in his hands.  Kurt realizes that Cooper came looking for him.

“How’s my baby brother?” Cooper asks and hands him one of the flutes.  It’s sweet and bubbles along Kurt’s tongue when he takes a sip.  It reminds him of the taste of the hollow of Blaine’s throat.

“Barely awake.  I’m gonna go home soon, if that’s ok with you.”

Cooper gives him a look; one eyebrow cocked that’s startling reminiscent of Blaine.  “Honestly, Kurt.  I’m still surprised you dragged yourself away from B.”

“Well, he sort of pushed me out of the house.”  Kurt takes another sip.  Cooper is smirking at him and Kurt can’t imagine growing up with someone like Cooper.  “Thanks for coming with me to this,” Kurt says. 

“But of course.  Free booze.  The chance to show off another of your suits?  Who could pass that up?  Besides, you’re my brother-in-law.”

Kurt’s heart does a little flip.  Sometimes he forgets that part – that he didn’t just get a husband when he married Blaine, he also got a brother.  Whatever he imagined for his life, this is so much better.  Even if Cooper is more than a handful sometimes, Kurt will take him as family.

On impulse, Kurt leans in and presses a kiss to Cooper’s cheek.  A camera flashes brightly and Cooper laughs.

“Well, that’s gonna get posted to Twitter in about twenty-six seconds.”  Cooper takes another drink of his champagne.  “Your husband is going to be so mad at me.”

***

At home, huddled on the sofa and mostly asleep, Blaine’s phone beeps with a Twitter update.  He blinks blearily at it and it takes a moment for Blaine’s brain to catch up with the image on the screen.

“Goddamnit, Coop.”


End file.
